“I—I don’t want to run you young men into any too dangerous places,” began Powell Seaton, hesitatingly. “I—I––”
“Danger’s one of the things we’re paid for,” clicked Tom Halstead, softly. “It’ll all in the charter. Do you want to go in alongside?”
“I—I––”
Bang!
The shot came so unexpectedly that the motor boat boys jumped despite themselves. Hepton cocked one of the rifles, and was about to rise with it, when the young skipper of the “Restless” prodded the man gently with one foot.
“Don’t show your guns, Hepton,” murmured 133 Tom. “Wait until we find out what that shot was meant for.”
No one now appeared on board the drab seventy-footer. There had been no smoke, no whistle of a bullet by the heads of those on the bridge deck of the “Restless.”
“That was intended only to make us nervous,” grinned Captain Tom.
“Or else to show us that they have fire-arms,” suggested Seaton.
“Well, sir, I’m headed to go in alongside, unless you give me other orders,” hinted the young skipper.